She & Him

"That's one of the most exciting things for me about listening to records: It's a moment in time, and the less it's messed with the more powerful it is."

The track record for actors attempting to cross over into the world of music has been less than stellar. Bands such as Jared Leto's 30 Seconds to Mars, Keanu Reeves' Dogstar, and Russell Crowe's 30 Odd Foot of Grunts remind us that all of these artists should probably hang on to their day jobs for the time being. It is such a checkered history that makes Volume One, the debut album by She & Him, seem even all the more impressive. Fronted by actress Zooey Deschanel (of All the Real Girls, Elf, and The Good Girl, among others) with assistance from M. Ward, Volume One is a remarkably self-assured first album, a record with a strong appreciation of history-- including music history (the two cover the Beatles' "I Should Have Known Better" and Smokey Robinson's "You Really Got a Hold on Me", and offer a take on "Swing Low, Sweet Chariot")-- and a keen awareness of the strengths of both parties involved. Pitchfork recently spoke with Deschanel and Ward about the recording process for Volume One, their love of the past, and overcoming the dreaded actor/musician curse.

Pitchfork: It's clear from your familial history why you got interested in movies at a young age (Deschanel's father is Caleb Deschanel, an Oscar-nominated cinematographer and her mother is actress Mary Jo Deschanel), but I am curious as to what has drawn you to the world of music. Were there experiences in your childhood that pushed you towards a potential career in music?

Zooey Deschanel: I always have loved music, ever since I was really little. I just loved to sing. I can't really explain it, except maybe--and this is going to sound really stupid-- when I would listen to a song it would make me more excited than anything else could. It would fill me with every amazing, wonderful feeling. It gave me so much joy to be able to listen to music. When I got a little bit older I wanted to play piano-- that's all I wanted to do. I remember learning how to play a blues progression on the xylophone in music class and thinking "This is the greatest thing I've ever learned." [laughs]

Pitchfork: Obviously, you became a well-respected actress. Why the desire now to become a musician? Is there a balance-- or perhaps even a tension-- between the ways you approach these two crafts?

ZD: Writing music is really personal, and it's a really exciting thing to participate in because represents the full creative process: It feels like something is coming from nothing. Also, in making a record there are so fewer people involved-- at least in our case. There were no more than three or four people in the studio at once. So I really feel like I can stand by everything on the record and say this is something that I personally endorse.

In making a movie, you're part of a big machine. Even in a small movie there are still so many people involved in the process, and it costs so much money to make. There is so much more invested in it for a lot of different people, so much money is sunk into it that they usually want some guarantee or promise that it's going to be able to do something on a financial level. There's just a lot more messing with you [laughs] in film. I love movies and I love to watch movies and being a part of the whole film experience. Being a filmgoer is a unique experience, and it can affect you on so many levels. But being an actor in movies you often have a very narrow palette for expressing yourself. And that can be fun, but I feel like making music because-- and this has much to do with the way I was able to make this record-- there's more of myself in it.

Pitchfork: So do you see your involvement in music as a bit like taking a role that allows you to highlight a different aspect of your personality-- perhaps in a way that acting in a scripted movie just can't allow?

ZD: Yeah. It's definitely a different side of me.

Pitchfork: I ask that question in part because I notice a sort of coming-of-age theme on the record, which is something a number of your film roles have addressed. The album's first track, "Sentimental Heart", begins with an image of the protagonist lying on her bedroom floor, crying and unable to move. Yet by the last song ("Sweet Darlin'") the protagonist seems much more adult and self-assured. Was an exploration of such themes a conscious decision on your part?

ZD: That's interesting because I'm always interested in hearing how other people read and react to my songs. I hadn't thought of it in just that way. One of the things I love about doing things that are creative is that I feel like it's my right as an artist not to be affected by the reactions of those people that are going to hear my songs. But I also feel like it's the right of the people hearing them to have their own interpretations of what these songs mean. Sometimes people will see things that I don't see.

Pitchfork: Your work seems to have a strong understanding and appreciation of the past.

ZD: I love telling stories. I think of myself as a storyteller, and I don't feel bound by being just a singer or an actress. First, I'm a storyteller, and history is stories-- the most compelling stories. There is a lot you can find out about yourself through knowing about history. I have always been attracted to things that are old. I have just always found such things interesting and compelling.

Pitchfork: Did this understanding of history influence your decision to include a selection of cover songs on the album?

ZD: We had both recorded "I Should Have Known Better" as demos. That was a sort of weird and exciting thing, so we decided to do that as a duet. There's a version of that song on Beach Boys' Party! that I really like because-- and I really love the Beatles version as well, of course-- it's nice to hear a cover that has so much life and is so much fun and so different from the original. It really expressed a different side of the song. I thought here was a song that had many different sides, and we tried to find another one.

The Smokey Robinson song has been covered so many times that it's now almost a standard. We were sort of playing around with it in the studio and then just decided to put it down. I liked that it really had the feeling of that moment in the studio. We recorded it in one take and there were no overdubs. That's one of the most exciting things for me about listening to records: It's a moment in time, and the less it's messed with the more powerful it is. I wanted at least one song on the record to be just completely about the moment.

Pitchfork: What about "Swing Low, Sweet Chariot", a song that doesn't seem able to perform such a task? Why include a song that already has such a long and complex history of its own?

ZD: I had to get over a lot of fear just to even send Matt my songs. For years I was sort of holding all of this stuff in. I had recorded the vocal track for it in my house, all a capella, on my computer using Garage Band or something in the middle of the night. It was in my computer and when I was sending Matt my songs to sort of break the ice, I was really nervous. I made the decision to send him a cover first, thinking that might be a little easier. I sent him that, so that was the first thing he heard. He liked it, and I think I felt like it was nice to have something that retains the feeling of those initial demos. Those demos have a certain quality, of somebody-- that somebody being me [laughs]-- trying to figure out how to make songs. There's sort of an experimental quality to all of them, and I think this song brings the record full circle.

The beginning of the record starts off with "Sentimental Heart"-- it's sort of meant to begin very humbly-- it's very spare. Then it goes into the bigger arrangements and sounds that mark the rest of the song. In a way, that song was meant to be an introduction to the whole world of the record. And the "Swing Low, Sweet Chariot" was meant to bring you back to that initial feeling. To me, it begins in my bedroom and then you are introduced to this different world of the record, and then you are taken back out with this little song at the end.

Pitchfork: The track record for actors going into music has been less than stellar. Is this something that you worry about? Are you concerned that people will only be interested in your music because you are "Zooey Deschanel, Actress"?

ZD: I'm not really that interested in pandering to an audience of people that are going to judge me before they hear me. If they hear it and don't like it, that's totally fine. There are lots of things that everyone else likes that I hate. So I feel that audience rights are very important. I just want people to hear it and decide if they like it or don't like it as they would with anything else.

One thing that was important to me was that the project have a different name than mine. I already have the weird experience of having a name for myself personally that's connected to someone that's in the public eye. So you have me, Zooey Deschanel, and then there's Zooey Deschanel's public persona. "Persona" may not be the best word-- I try to be authentic-- but at the same time I don't really want people prying into my personal life. It was important to have something that had a name that was different from all of that. It can make you a little crazy when you are too connected to a product. So we came up with something that was sort of humble and a bit anonymous. I don't really have so much interest in being a "star" in this format. I just really enjoy playing music.

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Pitchfork: Going into this project, were you hesitant about working with a well-known actress?

Matt Ward: No. I was familiar with her movies, particularly Elf. I remember watching that and thinking that she probably was someone who had put out a few records and also happened to be an actor. I was surprised when I found out that she didn't have any recordings out. So it was pretty fortuitous to be a part of her first record.

Pitchfork: So what was the dynamic in the studio during the recording of the album?

MW: It was just really easy. It was mainly first takes, a few second takes. We got to learn each other's processes a little bit. It was just very easy and fun.

Pitchfork: In speaking with Zooey, she mentioned how scared she was to initially send you the demos for this album. How did you convince her to finally take the plunge and send you her songs? Or did it not take much convincing at all?

MW: There was no convincing really. We had met in L.A. to do a song for a soundtrack and we kept in touch, talking every now and then about music. She eventually sent me the demos through email, and I thought they were incredible. It's not very often that you find a great unknown songs being written, let alone from someone who doesn't make their living doing this.

Pitchfork: What was the sound you were going for on Volume One, in terms of both instrumentation and production?

MW: My greatest inspiration has always been older records. So when it comes to treating the songs, you want to present it in a way that's going to be honorable to your memories of music and what's appealing to your ears. My production process involves paying a lot of attention to the demo and then trying to hear as best you can the way the song wants to go. The biggest trick is to not get in the way of where it wants to go-- if that makes any sense. [laughs]

Pitchfork: Zooey also noted the importance of history in her approach to music, and I think a similar awareness and respect of the past can be seen in your work, both here and on your solo albums. How do you honor the sounds of the past while still keeping your own songs fresh and timely?

MW: I think it's a matter of finding where your own personal history lines up with musical history, or whatever it is you are interested in-- whether it be politics or sports or whatever. An understanding of the cycles of history is vital. One of the best ways of coping with anything that comes your way, whether it be artistic or non-artistic, is by having an understanding of history.

Pitchfork: The public reaction to the record-- perhaps unsurprisingly-- has focused on Zooey. Are comfortable with that?

MW: Absolutely, I love it. I'm very comfortable with it in the context of this project. Onstage, I love leaving the vocals to Zooey. I started out just playing guitar, and singing came a couple of years later. It's a great opportunity for me to just focus on the instrument and the arrangement and what is going on behind the vocals. It's a very liberating experience for me.

Pitchfork: Do you therefore find yourself doing things you wouldn't necessarily do on your own albums in a project like this? Is such a project a way to explore other sides of your personality?

MW: Absolutely. It's a completely different perspective for me. And that's the best way to grow and learn about music and what you can do with it.

Pitchfork: Does such an attitude carry over into live performances for She & Him? Are you comfortable sharing the stage with a well-known actress? Do you ever worry that her presence might become more of a draw than the songs themselves?

MW: It's very much a non-issue. It never enters my mind. I can understand the question, but I guess it falls back into one of those categories I was talking about earlier about how the reaction has no impact on the act of-- whether it be writing, recording, or performing-- creating music. And that's a good place to be.

Pitchfork: You are publically supporting Barack Obama in the 2008 Democratic presidential primary. Will this involvement with politics influence your music more?

MW: That's a good question. I did a couple of performances in Omaha in support of Obama. It was an incredible experience. I feel like it was the closest I've gotten to playing a role in the political process. Because we played at this rally there, about 10-15,000 people saw us play. So I'm learning about where those circles can overlap.

When I was making my last record, a lot of the books I happened to be reading felt like they had come right out of the headlines of The New York Times. I guess in metaphorical terms, I think it's happening all of the time-- musicians are influenced by politics. And I'm interested in the cycles behind that.

Pitchfork: What if the cycle of the late 1960s and early 1970s repeats itself? What if, for example, Obama loses and this moment of hope and possibility is extinguished? What might that mean for you both artistically and politically?

MW: A very good question, and one that I have to think about….I really hope he [Obama] wins, but if for some strange reason he doesn't win, I feel like he has changed the way people can see the potential of these campaigns, and of potential nominees. I feel that the speech he gave on race alone is going to have-- it already has-- a great impact on the country. And that's whether or not he becomes president. I feel that he's opening up avenues of dialogue that I certainly don't remember this country ever having.

Pitchfork: What's next for you?

MW: I'm in the middle of my usual process of creating stuff and then destroying it. This record, so far, has been the most…I don't know what the right word is. I was aiming toward one thing and then I decided to throw it away and start again, which is good. [laughs] It's been a learning experience. It always is.